


The Dark Fulcrum

by Webtrinsic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, The Batman (Movie 2021)
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Lives, Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Ahsoka Tano-centric, Ahsoka is batman, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, BAMF Ahsoka Tano, Batman AU, I Don't Even Know, I wrote this for myself, Inspired by a Trailer, Mental Instability, Moral Ambiguity, Quote: The Force works in mysterious ways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: After she leaves the order and is given privy to what is to come, Ahsoka becomes an agent of the force with new evils on the rise.(Basically I made Ahsoka Batman from the new Batman trailer)
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	The Dark Fulcrum

**Author's Note:**

> i actually love this?! i just love the idea of her in the batsuit and being a moral broody girl! I'm honestly just projecting my faves into one person lol

It is routine to smear the black mineral powder over her eyelids to blot out any orange from peaking out from under it’s surface. It is a messy process that often burns her sclera when she smothers her water line so there isn’t a hint of tangerine skin left.

The whites of her eyes sting as they are dyed. The pain is a welcome reminder of what she is doing and why she is doing it. Red veins scream against what is left visible and her ocean blue irises takes the form of something calculatingly deranged. 

They strike fear in the hearts of those against her whilst calling the attention of those brave enough to stand by her side. The windows to her soul are haunted, shrouded with knowledge from a life lived through an artifact, a life only she prevented.

Anakin Skywalker did not fall, the Jedi were being retaught and ostracized. Laws rewritten, politics and communities being reshappen. There is still work to do. The Jedi for the moment aren’t allowed to subdue the remaining Sith and Ahsoka willingly gives chase for them.

She is born again in armor, the beskar a navy blue on her torso, the rest a piercing black. Her face is consumed by retractable metal, voice modulated behind a mask that is flat but gives off the same tone as Vader once had in another life. Most of the armor in fact is based on her worst nightmare. 

A black cape hides her back head tail, her lekku are pulled and molded to her shoulders to make them look broader and wider. The insignia resembling her facial markings stand out on her chest, her old sabers broken and fitted into the armor to make the symbol gleam in reflecting light.

She is vengeance, she is Fulcrum.

* * *

Her connection with the force resembles a drill, it twists painfully through her, pulling her through it with every turn, tearing at a weakening resolve. It does not pull her into the dark to drown her, it pulls her into the dark for her to swim and brighten the waters.

She is a predator. A silent guardian who mercilessly takes down those who are threatening a balance that’s prophecy has been abolished. If her master couldn’t fulfil his role, she would, the force ensured it.

In his own way, even Anakin had too, she had the makings of the dark and the light running through her veins. Settling in her core, pumping her heart.

When she is seen, both in person and in shadow. Danger stiffens and passerbye’s question their beliefs. Her montrals are commonly referred to as the horns of a beast, a devil, she never says otherwise, even when they call her an angel claiming those two peaks were a halo. There was no answer, both could be right and she would be none the wiser. 

The force wisens her, a nonexistent time has taught her to rise. She is resistance, she is steel, she is the darkest of space and brightest of suns.

Fulcrum tightens the utility belt around her hips, her cured sabers itching to be in her hands. There is no physical danger at the moment, but there is a warning broadcast on a puck displayed before her.

_ “If you are justice, please do not lie. What is the price for your blind eye?” _ It repeats again and again, Bail watching tersely, having reached out for her with the message from _a friend_.

It is lucky her face is covered and only her eyes peak out because she is snarling behind the material, lips curled and bitten in a snarl while her eyes remain dead in their sockets, emotionless and set almost in glass. Wet and irritated with black soot.

The door behind them opens and she remembers clearly that Bail had been expecting visitors before this had turned up. Her force signature is tapered down and smothered, mainly now when she went into battle no one even knew she was sensitive.

It even works now as her former master, Obi-Wan, and senator Amidala step in. They don’t know it is her encased in this brooding visage, none of them had seen her since the bombing.

She isn’t Ahsoka, she isn’t snips, she is Fulcrum and the insignia on her chest proves it. The togruta doesn’t even turn their way, wondering if they’ll recognize her eyes if they meet. They were different than before so they might not, they hadn’t even recognized the significance of her insignia in the past. A ludicrous oversight that shouldn't surprise her after the Jedi failed to acknowledge the corrupt.

She still doesn’t take the chance as her gloved hands turn off the puck. 

“You’re shorter than I expected,” only a handful have seen her in person, and only three beings knew who she was under the mask. Her jaw tightens as not to laugh because it is very Anakin to make such an insulting observation first to someone who has shown a drive similar to his own.

It’s almost frightening that he is sizing her up as a threat, and she’s immediately drawn back to Vader, the monster.

Nodding thankfully to Bail, she turns in her heavy boots with a flourish, the lightsabers on her hips not going by unnoticed as she marches past them back towards the door. They know not to stop her and they don’t see her eyes, but her weapons alone are enough, of course, to have Obi-Wan’s tongue dancing.

“It’s uncommon for a non force wielder to use a lightsaber,” it is a trap question she knows it, only a force-sensitive could be called to a krystal, let alone purify one. He was insuiting she’d stolen it or was hiding her powers, normally the trick would work on her when she was a youngling back at the temple, now she didn’t even stop her stride.

She left, and remained unmoved as Anakin followed, trying and failing to be sneaky. He’s curious, he’d always been, but he cannot keep a secret, she can’t tell them it’s his snips under the mask. 

That and if she did she’d likely be lying. 

It pains a large portion of her heart to ignore him, to straddle her bike and ride off without even a hello or even a goodbye. The pain feeds her balance to the darkside as she’s always been more partial to the light.

It is fed more when she gets off planet, the bounty hunters fob is whirring and there is a man beaten bloody under her fist, he’s already given her the information she needs, and hand delivers her next letter with broken fingers.

She doesn’t let up until he’s in a fit of tears, pleading what and who she is to do this.

_“I’m Vengeance,”_ a breathy, mechanical voice pants out, no trace of the eighteen year old togruta left.

_“You’re a part of this too,”_ the next letter croons.

_“How am I a part of this?”_ she asks, unaware that it will give her an answer, one she doesn’t want to hear, one that is unhelpful even though she’d come to the conclusion already back when this started.

_“You’ll see,”_ Lightning overtakes the sky, and she runs into the darkness.  She hadn’t lied, there is no price she will be paid that doesn’t come from the force itself.

_“This guys crazy,”_ an observer of the assault and her dash into the downpour joyously weeps.

That maybe so, but she is the night, she is vengeance, she is Fulcrum.

**Author's Note:**

> Snap: allisonw1122  
> Tumblr/twitter: webtrinsic1122  
> Insta:Webtrinsic


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